


Rose Gold

by imperatorkhaleesi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Holidays, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:04:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9090673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperatorkhaleesi/pseuds/imperatorkhaleesi
Summary: Molrene post Reichenbach. Irene meets Molly for the first time and she's smitten. For her, at least.Or, Irene has a crush!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dietplainlite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dietplainlite/gifts).



Irene could smell bacon and warm, buttery scones when her eyes opened. Gold twinkled in her periphery. She rolled over to stare up at the ceiling; fairy lights glistened in a soft approximation of Andromeda, Ursa Major to it's left, Orion centered right above the bed, the two topmost stars hovering over the pillows, where Irene could still smell sweet, flowery perfume on the soft blue satin fabric. She stretched, languidly, yawning softly, her eyes straying over to the tiny window, the sky beyond it slowly turning from purple to inky blue black, dotted softly with snow.

"Are you finally awake in there?" Irene's feet delicately touched the worn, slightly chilly wooden slats of the bedroom floor, and she wrapped herself in a soft silk bathrobe.

Molly sat at her dining room table, just visible at the other end of the hall, her hair piled up in a messy bun atop her head and her eyes skimming over the pages of what looked to be a science journal, a small Christmas tree glinting on the side table behind her. Irene watched the brown tendrils fall against her cheeks as she read. Her fingers wound into the curls at the nape of her neck; she brought her foot up to her seat and rested her chin against her knee, absentmindedly chewing on her soft bottom lip; she wore a soft, comfy grey sleep shirt, a scarf thrown carelessly over her narrow shoulders.

Irene's mind strayed; Molly panting heavily against her mouth as Irene's fingers dipped below her waistband; the feel of Molly's smile against her lips as they fell into the river of Molly's sheets; Irene biting her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, desperately trying to stifle her moans as Molly teased her, fingertips squeezing thighs, licking, and sucking, her tongue darting and relentless until Irene tipped over, her toes curling against Molly's slender shoulders; Molly's soft yelp of surprise morphing into laughter as Irene gripped her legs and sat upright, pulling her into her lap, leaning forward and pressing warm, open mouthed kisses to Molly's bare, soft skin, Irene's body still tingling from Molly's painstaking ministrations.

 _This shouldn't have happened,_ her eyes went over Molly, casually loafing about in her seat, nose buried in her periodical, a modest but robust breakfast laid out on the table. This was just supposed to be a deposit of a gift, in repayment for a favor. But Molly, with her lovely shy smile, and quick mind, and glistening gaze, drew Irene into her. Molly, who shrank when Irene first met her, "Sherlock left for Thailand a few hours ago" petering out as Molly slowly returned Irene's inquisitive gaze. It should have been simple.

"I'm here for you, actually," she'd spoken into the soft quietude. Molly's eyes cut up at her, eyebrows raised, lips drawn tightly together.

"You're her," Molly'd inhaled, her eyes tracking across Irene, with a soft look of "now, I understand" etched into her face. "Irene. Irene Adler. The woman."

"And you're Dr. Hooper. Dr. Molly Hooper. Now that we have introductions out of the way..." Irene reached into her sleek Prada and pulled out a heather grey box, wrapped with bright red cord. She placed it on the table and slid it across the countertop, smiling softly as Molly's eyes flitted across her stark black ensemble, her lips two stark streaks of deep red, her black hair falling around her pale face.

"What's this?" Molly murmured, picking at her sweater cuffs, the soft gold and blue fabric poking out of her white lab coat. Irene edged closer; Moly worried her bottom lip, her eyelashes fanning prettily above her cheekbones.

"It's a gift, for you. To thank you for your help earlier this year. It's not easy to fake a death the second time around. I meant to give it to you earlier, but, well...it took some doing getting back into England. Even with the people I know."

"Oh. That. It's nothing," Molly blushed, gently flailing her hands, eyes darting up and meeting Irene's, briefly. Irene felt a shiver rattle down her back. "Sherlock did most of the work, really, I just-"

"Did the procuring. And the scarring. And the paperwork. Which is often the hardest to cover up and the easiest to overlook. Don't sell yourself short." Molly smiled, the red on her cheeks deepening. She touched the red cord; her eyes flickered up and fixed on Irene's mouth, fleetingly.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

Molly carded the cord through her fingers. Her gaze darted up at Irene, again, who watched her, interestedly, unabashedly. Molly bit her lip. Irene fought to suppress the grin that threatened to spread across her face. She turned on her sharp stiletto heel as she folded her jacket collar back over her neck.

"Have a lovely day, Dr. Hooper."

"Wait," Irene turned. Molly's gaze was fixed on her, her present in her hands. "Can I buy you a drink or...something?"

Irene cocked her head, eyebrow raised. "Or something?"

"Oh no," Molly's face went pure scarlet. "I-I'm sorry, I meant, like a-a coffee or something. As thanks. Because of...the gift..."

Irene watched her, appraising. Molly bit her bottom lip.

"If you've got something else to do, I underst-"

"How about dinner?" Molly stopped short with a tiny squeak.

"Sorry?"

"Have dinner with me. Tonight. If you'd really like to thank me."

"You mean...l-like as a..."

"Date? Yes." Irene watched, with surprised interest, as Molly squared her shoulders and nodded.

"Yes. I'd quite like that, Ms. Adler." Irene whipped a white and black card out of her bag. She reached forward and slid it into Molly's breast pocket. Molly gasped. Irene winked.

"Oh, lovely, pretty Molly. Call me Irene."

 

Two days. Two soft and luxurious days. Takeaway and lovely whispered conversations, sweet kisses and sweeter touches. Irene didn't like having feelings for people. She'd made the mistake before, and it'd cost her her identity. Feelings are messy, and complicated, and didn't belong in sex work anyway, not in the worlds she moved in and the clients she had.

But Molly. Molly had taken her by storm. So quiet and so clever. Sweet, but with a clear and tempered steel in her soul. Why else would she fall into Sherlock's orbit if he hadn't seen the same tendency toward the remarkable in her Irene sensed? Though how he hadn't fallen into her, when Irene had been taken at first look, she'd never understand.

She felt soft fur brush against her leg. She smiled, stooping to scoop up Toby.

"Good morning," Irene murmured, leaning into the threshold between the hall and the living room, snuggling the tomcat in her arms. Molly's face lit up, and Irene could feel her chest tighten. Her heart leapt into her throat. God, the woman was so bloody _cute_.

"Good evening, actually," Molly replied. She reached over to the meticulously set seat next to her, and nudged the evening paper forward. "We've not kept an eye on the time. I've got about a thousand well-wishing calls to wade through."

"Sorry to distract you," Irene relaxed into the seat, ruffling her sleep tousled hair as she settled; Toby slipped off her lap. Molly's cheeks went a bit pink.

"I didn't mind it a bit, honestly." Irene smiled before she could stop herself and cut a look over to her.

"Good," Irene sighed. "Because I'm not the least bit sorry." Molly blushed even deeper; Irene let out a soft chuckle. She reached for the teapot.

"I see you like my gift," Irene nodded to the rose gold chain hanging around her neck. Molly lightly fingered it, her nail gently scraping against the cherry shaped pendant at the bottom, the small dots of red sapphire glinting against her clavicle.

"It's so lovely. Thank you again."

"Thank _you_ for this," Irene replied, topping up Molly's tea. Molly closed the periodical and pushed it away.

"Of course. It's only polite...after..."

"We've had each other? " Irene replied, her eyebrow cocking. "One or two sugars?"

"I...well...yes, I mean. Two. Anyway...I mean. Well, you gave me such a lovely gift and I wanted to give you something too."

"You did," Irene reached over to pick an eyelash off Molly's cheek. "Your company was gift enough."

"Can I ask you something?" Molly murmured after a minute.

"Of course."

"Why me?" Irene blinked, her head cocking to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just...you're beautiful-"

"So are you."

"And interesting-"

"So are you."

"And clever, how could you not be clever, giving Mycroft Holmes the runaround like that-"

"So are you."

"I've never given-"

"I meant clever. You're clever as all hell. You've faked mine and Sherlock's death without raising suspicion or breaking a sweat. You're beyond clever."

"And...stimulating." Molly finished. "You're quite stimulating."

"So are you." Molly burst into laughter.

"I dunno," Molly laughed, her fingertips dancing on the table. "I suppose I'm not as...well, stimulating as Sher-"

"You are." Molly's eyebrows shot up.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

" _Seriously?_ "

"Yes. Intellectually at least. I've never had him, so I can't say anything to the affirmative in that department." Irene could sense the waves of relief wash over Molly. Her fingers stilled, her spine relaxed.

"I dunno how you've figured that, but...it's quite flattering."

"Have you ever been with a woman, Molly? Before this weekend?"

"Once. In university," Molly added, off Irene's look. "She was a senior in my natural sciences course. I'd never liked a girl before her. Not in that way, at least. I thought she was an exception, though I've proved myself wrong in the past few years."

"Well Sherlock," Irene began, "if anything, was an anomaly for me. My exceptional exception that proves the rule, really. I'm sure you know that he has a way of drawing you in.

"But you. You're exceptional to me in a different way. You make me...feel things. Feel things that I usually make an effort not to feel, because it's messy to feel them. And I...feel...more for you, than I did for him."

"Oh."

"You don't have to feel the same, you know. I'm a lesbian, I know more than one should about pining."

"I was just going to say, this has been the best date I've ever been on."

"Why?"

"Because I know you like me too," Molly replied. Irene didn't stifle her smile this time. She leaned forward to kiss Molly, her lips plush and warm as they touched. "I like you very much, Irene Adler."

"Likewise, Molly Hooper." Irene squeezed Molly's fingers. "I'm a wanted criminal in eight countries, I hope that doesn't put you off."

Molly laughed as she leaned away. "I think we can work with that. Just...no holidays in America, at least for a little while."

"Or France. Or Canada, or Germany. Or Lebanon. Or South Africa."

"Hm. Morocco?"

"Not yet."

"Well, that's sorted!" Irene lifted the teapot again.

"What a relief. You'll love the bazaars."

"Brilliant. Happy Christmas," Molly chirped. Irene's eyes widened a bit; she focused on pouring.

"I'm Jewish, actually..." Molly's face went even redder.

"Oh. I...I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine, really, it happens all the-"

"It's not fine," Molly reached over and took Irene's hand. "I don't...my childhood best friend was Jewish. I saw how much little things like that hurt her. I'm sorry." Irene nodded.

"Thank you. I've never told anyone that before," she added, softly worrying her bottom lip. Molly hesitantly reached up and cupped Irene's cheek. She leaned into her touch, squeezing the hand on her cheek, and turning to kiss her palm. "I'm glad I told you."

"So am I." They quieted; then Molly reached forward to kiss her, their mouths lingering, her thumb gently brushing over Irene's high, smooth cheekbone.

"Do you mind if I just..." she brushed Irene's hair behind her ear. "I want to...well...on the couch-"

" _Molly..._ "

"But you should have breakfast first."

"Very well," Irene broke off a piece of toast, grinning as she brought it to her lips. "If the doctor insists."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a cool fic contest the lovely dietplainlite was running on her etsy tumblr. If you're a fan of the BBC Sherlock, Star Trek, Star Wars, Doctor Who, or if you like finely curated vintage wear, check her out over at etsy.com/shop/Pickolily!
> 
> Sherlock usually isn't my wheelhouse (and neither is femslash to be honest [I'm a bad wlw haha]) but I really wanted to try something new, and I really love Molly and Irene's dynamic. I hope y'all liked it as much as I liked writing it!


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